Authors: Donna McDonald
Tags: #General Fiction
The Demon Master’s Wife
Book Two of the
Forced To Serve
Series
by
Donna McDonald
* * * * *
Copyright 2012 by Donna McDonald
Cover by LFD Designs for Authors
Edited by Toby Minton
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should delete this file from your device and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.
This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my editor, T Minton, who went above and beyond on this very large book, functioning as both beta reader and editor, and championing the story until we made it the best it could be. My publishing journey just wouldn’t be the same without you.
Thanks to writers, directors, and other creative spirits, like Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, and Steven Spielberg, for bringing science fiction and space stories to me and filling my childhood and adult years with adventures. It was all of you who taught me that real magic can happen when your mind is able to suspend belief. I aspire for my work to entertain readers as well as yours does.
Thanks to Bruce who functioned as a sounding board to my endless out loud plotting and planning of the first two books in this series. I know I seemed almost as possessed as my heroine at times. I love you honey.
Thanks to K Lawson for her clean-up efforts. You helped me make this a better, cleaner book.
Dedications
To my son Michael, who at the age of three or four used to create fight scenes that showed people bleeding despite the fact that I kept as much violence and weaponry as possible out of the house.
I remember your calm explanations to me about how that was just the way it was and my shock at the wisdom in your eyes. You have always had an amazing imagination and I hope you find a creative outlet for it one day that makes you as happy as writing makes me.
Chapter 1
“So who won the fight?” Gwen asked, pushing open the door to the training room.
“It was not a true competition. What is more important is that Synar surprised me and I let him get by with it,” Ania said with a frown. “That’s what should matter to you from a warrior’s perspective.”
“Much of what Synar does these days surprises me. Before you got here, he was the most stoic male I had ever met. Now he’s as anxiety ridden as any other creature. When I reported to him last, he actually yelled at me. So quit stalling and tell me who won the fight,” Gwen demanded on a laugh, removing her shoes and tucking them under the bench. “Did you beat him as badly as you do me? And can I watch next time?”
“Your competitive nature screams ‘Earthling’ to everyone who gets to know you,” Ania chastised, even though she also paused to think about Gwen’s question as she slipped off her own shoes.
Truthfully, she hadn’t really thought of what happened during their fight as her losing to Synar or either of them winning. She didn’t even think of fighting Synar the way she thought of fighting other people. She had merely been trying to prove a point, and maybe work off some justifiable anger.
“Winning is relative, but by your standards I would say I did. My body never hit the mat,” Ania said with a shrug.
Gwen snorted, examining the smaller female’s skinny frame and lack of roundness with a trained warrior’s eye.
“Synar is not all that tall for a male, but you’re at least five inches shorter than him. I know because I’m as tall as he is. Are you telling me Synar kissed you and your feet never left the mat?”
Remembering his fierce embrace and her legs wrapped tightly around him, Ania sighed and frowned. “I see your point. Perhaps the fight ended in a draw.”
“Too bad for you both that it didn’t end in one of your beds,” Gwen teased, laughing at her own joke. “If it makes you feel any better, right now I’m running from Zade. He keeps asking to speak to me privately. My instinct is to keep away from him, so that’s what I’ve been doing. You want to help me out by telling me what’s going on?”
“Why should I tell you what I see intuitively when you are able to see for yourself? If you are so concerned, use your intuition to discover the reason,” Ania ordered.
Gwen ran a hand through her hair. “Not going to happen—I’m not sure I want to even know. Zade and I—
Shades of Kellnor
—we have a history, okay? Or at least we could have had one. I sort of threw myself at him when I first met him. I hadn’t felt that way about a male before him and haven’t felt like that for another since. He refused me very politely, which has worked out fine. Now I think he wants to break the news to me about the mating thing you mentioned. I’m just not up for all that awkward stuff,” Gwen protested.
Ania studied Gwen, blinking in disbelief. Dorian was finally chasing and Gwen was now running. They had traded places, but the end result remained their continued avoidance of involvement with each other.
“You really need to learn to use your intuition in better ways. It rules you anyway. I suggest you concede to it as soon as possible,” Ania advised.
“Really? Well, what’s so great about knowing the future? Zade can just go do what he needs to do. Let him mate someone. He doesn’t owe me any explanations. I admit I felt a twinge when you first mentioned it, but no male is worth dwelling on forever, no matter how nice he looks,” Gwen announced.
Ania rose and took a deep breath, wrestling with the decision of telling Gwen or not telling Gwen about Dorian’s intentions towards her. When a creature rejected their intuition so adamantly, it had always seemed wrong to her to force them to epiphanies they did not seek on their own.
Besides, Ania thought, who was she to put herself in the middle of Dorian and his mate?
Deciding to let it happen as it would, Ania only smiled and gestured at the mat.
“Let’s go. I’m feeling lucky today,” Gwen told her, looking down on the top of the shorter female’s head.
“Good for you. I’m feeling like you’re going to be on the mat in the first two minutes again,” Ania teased back. “Unless you’ve magically learned some patience since last time.”
“Very funny,” Gwen said, taking her stance.
An hour later her top was drenched in sweat while Ania was completely dry still. And it wasn’t because Pleiadian females didn’t sweat. Ania just didn’t sweat when fighting with her.
From her hated position of being flat on the mat, Gwen sighed hard and promised herself she would change that in time.
Reaching down, Ania pulled her determined pupil to her feet. “You did better today,” she informed her, grinning when Gwen rolled her eyes.
“How many years did you say it took you to master your moves?” Gwen demanded.
“At least fifty Earth years,” Ania said.
“No wonder Earthlings don’t become Khalsas. None of them live long enough. My father says members of his family live on average around three hundred years. With my genetic heritage, I could die tomorrow or live a few centuries. I’ll keep training though if you’ll keep teaching me,” Gwen said.
Ania bowed her head to Gwen respectfully, pleased when her new pupil returned the gesture naturally. There were some things in Gwen that were changing rapidly. Then there were others that would probably never change, Ania decided, smiling about several of them.
“Let me phrase my answer in your favorite terms. I have no problem kicking your ass every day, though fighting you so often makes me want to engage Dorian for a proper workout,” Ania bragged.
“Now
that
I look forward to seeing—you and Zade going at each other. I’d love to see him kick your ass,” Gwen mused, putting her shoes back on again.